How did she climb?

She sits above the world as if she had simply floated there : the sunlight caught in her skirt, the wind brushing her calm shoulders. Her blue top glows like a slice of sky, and her coral skirt spills down the branch like liquid laughter. We wonder how she climbed, but perhaps the question is wrong : perhaps she did not climb at all, but rose by grace, by the quiet joy that belongs to summer afternoons. The hills below melt into a watercolor haze, and somewhere, unseen, a cicada sings her name. There is no effort in her balance, no weight in her stillness : only the ease of a woman who has made peace with the sun. I love this painting for its tender simplicity, its gentle defiance against gravity and time. Have a very nice day, @Hitmoments